Stations Eleven By Emily St. John Mandel
Stations Eleven
Stations Eleven, a dystopian fiction book, by Emily St. John Mandel, is about a pandemic wiping out the majority of humans and their civilization. It explores who we might be if stripped of the identities we adopt through our relationship with capitalism and the borders of state and country.
Theme from Stations Eleven: The source of identity
“He tried to keep up a litany of biographical facts as he walked, trying to anchor himself to this life, to this earth [his name] [his profession].” How much of what gives us identity is that which is external to us? Would our essence be more accessible, stripped of family lineage, nationalism, profession, financial status, etc.? What is the source of identity?
Theme from Stations Eleven: Escaping the weight of societal expectations, falsely imbued with importance but ultimately meaningless
One must prioritize only the basics when stripped of convenience and luxury. In that reduction, there is grief, but there is also a curious relief.
“No more internet. No more social media, no more scrolling through litanies of dreams and nervous hopes and photographs of lunches, cries for help and expressions of contentment and relationship-status updates…No more…commenting on the lives of others…No more avatars.”
Theme from Stations Eleven: The essential relationship between humanity and art
While civilization may crumble, human connection to each other, the earth, and art remain intact. Included in the fundamentals are theater, art, and music. The line, “survival is insufficient,” is repeated throughout the book. Engagement with art offers sufficiency if not transcendence.
“Survival is insufficient.”
“Kirsten stood in the state of suspension that always came over her at the end of performances, a sense of having flown very high and landed incompletely, her soul pulling upward out of her chest.”
The Writing
Plot and Structure
The structure and plot kept me engaged. There was a sort of piecing together of a puzzle as the author went between the old world (today) and the post-apocalyptic world. I don’t know about you, but I love the feeling of finding a puzzle piece that fits. The author planted plenty of those moments throughout the story.
World Building
I felt anchored in the imagery of the world today. Yet something about the post-apocalyptic world was less visceral for me. I could see it…sort of, but I couldn’t feel it.
Character Building
The most interesting character for me was Miranda, from whom the title of the book was derived. I won’t say why because it’s a bit of a spoiler. I loved her as a character because she was described with such beautiful interiority. Civilization as a whole seemed to be one of the most interesting characters with the best character arc.
Sadly, I didn’t connect to any of the other characters very deeply. It was like I described my experience with the post-apocalyptic world. I could imagine them but not feel their hearts. I yearned for more complexity with the characters. For example, the Prophet could have been so much more interesting if there had been some interiority. Yet the reader doesn’t know what motivates and drives him to dominate.
There wasn’t much (if any…honestly, I can’t remember) GLBTQIA+ representation. I appreciate that the author didn’t describe the characters by body size and looks. It would have been interesting to consider how no mirrors and scales would strip away false conceptions of self. I would have liked more ethnic diversity. It’s not like the post-apocalyptic world makes this irreverent because the post-apocalyptic world exists with people from the world today.
This book gets three stars. I liked it and respected the concept. I liked the plot and the structure, but the character development and the world-building, particularly post-apocalyptic, could be much more profound and complex.
